


Life In Color

by sweeterthankarma



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/F, Friendship/Love, S3E2: Chapter Two: The Mall Rats, Self-Discovery, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 14:36:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19770268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweeterthankarma/pseuds/sweeterthankarma
Summary: There’s something about the atmosphere of the Starcourt mall that makes Eleven feel vividly alive, and she thinks that’s probably the entire point of its creation. It’s breathtaking, all of it, even the curse-laden graffiti on the bathroom stalls, and although Max watches her a bit like a bird set free of its cage, Eleven feels like she’s finally a human being for the first time.





	Life In Color

It’s easy for Eleven to exist around Max, and that fact feels a lot like a revelation.

She hadn’t realized how hard it had been to exist  _ at all  _ until now. There’s something about the atmosphere of the Starcourt mall that makes her feel vividly alive, and she thinks that’s probably the entire point of its creation. It’s breathtaking, all of it, even the curse-laden graffiti on the bathroom stalls, and although Max watches her a bit like a bird set free of its cage, El feels like she’s finally a human being for the first time. 

Or at least a kid. There’s a reason there’s such a long line behind the pinball machine at the arcade, and she’s that exact reason; her eyes follow it, scan the dense crowd of waiting teens, and she urges Max over despite it. They’re practically running, giggling even when they’re scolded by adults whose shopping bags they’ve knocked into, and El decides then and there that this is the most fun she’s ever had in her life. (Far more fun than she’s ever had with Mike, but she’s not thinking about that right now, not thinking about _ him  _ right now.)

El moves out of a childlike necessity, one rooted in pleasure and achievement rather than fear and self-preservation. It’s a stark change compared to what she’s used to. No matter how accustomed she is to her relatively simple life in Hawkins, her fight or flight response is so deeply ingrained that she isn’t sure she’ll ever be able to turn it off. (She isn’t so sure she ever should, anyways.)

Now, though, she jumps a little, filled with giddiness once she and Max have earned their spot in line. They stay close, hand in hand as they wait their turn, and the butterflies in El’s stomach persist. Only once they’re next up to play does El realize that the nerves come less from the game and more so from the way that Max’s fingers stay intertwined with hers.

The entire day has been all about El, essentially, and Max hasn’t minded a bit. In fact, she’s been willing and more than able, even taken joy in helping her analyze and recalibrate her life to her own speed and desires. While it’s been a bit jarring for El, especially upon introduction, it’s been exhilarating and rejuvenating and she feels like a new person, like a better person. Not only is she thrilled with her new wardrobe and all the fun that’s come along with discovering, full throttle, what  _ she  _ likes — not Hopper, not Mike, but her— but  Max is remarkably easy to be around. She’s even better at motivating, and El is overcome, almost all at once, at the realization of her peace. The way that she feels is so new —  the easiness of her breath and the stillness of her hands, the calmness of her nerves and the light, fuzzy feeling in her chest — and that feeling is all Max’s doing. 

El thinks that what she likes is Max.

“You just try things on,” she had said as they’d stood before hundreds of racks of multi-colored fabrics in The Gap, “until you find something that feels like you.” She had shared her advice like the idea of self-proclaimed identity wasn’t incredibly daunting and foreign to El, and only hours later does El realize that she’s already transformed from it.

“This feels like me,” El says aloud at the same moment she realizes it. Max turns to look at El, turning her back from the Pac-Man machine she’d been staring at, watching a boy a few years older than them get close to beating the high score.

“Hanging out with you,” El clarifies when Max gives her an inquisitive look.

Max beams as soon as El’s words register and she squeezes her hand. The smile on El’s own mouth doesn’t fade and she doesn’t tear her eyes away from Max’s face.  _ She’s pretty,  _ she thinks to herself.  _ So pretty,  _ and she doesn’t know how she hasn’t realized it until now. 

“Can we do this again tomorrow?” El asks, practically begs. “Can we come back here?”

There’s so much more to see, so much more to experience and try, but all El is really thinking about is spending more time with Max. She wants to sit beside her in the dark cinema, sharing popcorn and slushies and candy even when they’re already full from ice cream from Scoops Ahoy; she wants to laugh and whisper so loud that the people sitting in front of them shush them, and she wants to answer them with even more laughter. She wants to try on even more clothes, maybe see Max in that pretty black dress again, the one that she had tried on earlier, and maybe she’ll try on the red one, the one that she had thought was too grown up for her. She wants to be brave — to keep being brave— and she wants to do it all alongside Max, holding her hand like this the entire time. 

Max grins, all teeth. El tries not to stare at her freckles and fails.  _ (I like you,  _ El wants to say.  _ I like you and I like this.)  _

“Of course we can.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on my Tumblr under the same username, sweeterthankarma.


End file.
